The Snape Project
by chalkboardcalzone
Summary: Hermione sets out on a mission to befriend her potions professor, with some help from McGonagall. Contains OotP spoilers.
1. Default Chapter

I slid into consciousness unwillingly, groping for the source of the jarring buzzing sound that was rattling my brain so thoroughly.  Hitting the snooze button, I sighed and silently cursed my mother.  When I moved to my own flat after Hogwarts, she felt that a Muggle alarm clock was the best way to remember my heritage.

Speaking of remembering…I sank into my pillow, closing my eyes again. What a dream.  I could still taste the mystery man's lips, feel his body.  No, that's not entirely true. His identity is certainly not a mystery to me. 

The man in my dreams is my former potions master, Severus Snape. I don't usually admit this, even to myself, but I know it's true. I sighed again. It doesn't do to dwell on fantasies.  I clicked the alarm clock off before it decided I had snoozed enough and willed myself to sit upright. 

I really did not want to go to work. I worked at the Ministry of Magic, then, doing some horrible clerical job to keep the cat food in Crookshanks' bowl and the potions ingredients in my private stores. I know I could have asked Snape to provide me with bits of the rarer ones, but I was just too proud.

If you have met Professor Snape, or know of him, you are probably scratching your head, wondering at this seemingly incongruous mention of his generosity. He isn't a bad man. Not nice, definitely, but once you get to know him, once you make it past those first outer defenses…he's really not bad at all. 

How did I, Hermione Granger, make it past those outer defenses? Well, it started in my sixth year. NEWT-level potions class…. Harry, who at that point still absolutely despised Professor Snape, blaming him for Sirius' death and all, marched into the common room one night and announced to all of Gryffindor what he had seen in the Pensieve during his Occlumency lessons.  I was absolutely floored. Having read my share of Muggle psychology books and the like, it became quite clear to me why Snape was Snape.

Abandoning SPEW immediately (in my mind, anyway), I decided to make Professor Snape my private project. Even though I told Harry off for spilling an obviously private memory, I secretly rejoiced at the chance to improve someone's life. 

Now, I know what it's like to be teased for my looks, shunned for my brains, picked on for being different. Maybe that's what inspired me to reach out to someone I felt was a soul mate; if not in the romantic sense, then as someone with similar experiences and background. 

Only a few students had been selected for NEWT-level potions. Unfortunately, those few included quite a proportion of Slytherins.  At least some Ravenclaws were in there as well, so the tension between me and the Slytherins was not too intolerable. The day after Harry's outburst, however, Draco and Pansy might as well have been on the Moon. All my attention was focused on Professor Snape.

I sat extra straight in my chair, double checked all my measurements, and made a gorgeous Nerve-Steeling Solution.  I felt that this potion was particularly appropriate for that day, considering my plan for after class.  I managed to drink a bit of the potion when Snape wasn't looking, and by the time he passed my cauldron with the hint of a nod, I was feeling braver than ever.

My plan for that day wasn't drastic; no notes or invitations to tea, not on the first day of my new project. No, that day I simply took meticulous care in bottling and labeling my potion, cleaning out my cauldron, and scrubbing my workspace.

By the time I was finished, Professor Snape and I were the only ones left in the room. He was engrossed in a pile of essays, and didn't look up when I crept to his desk and set my bottle of perfect Nerve-Steeling Solution next to the others, making a dull thump on the desk.

Then he did look up, the acid already on his tongue and the annoyance creeping onto his face. I had expected this, though, and got my say in first:

"Have a good day, Professor Snape," I said, and flashed him my brightest Gryffindor grin. 

He was certainly shocked, if not overtly pleased at my first attempts to reach out to him, and I left him looking rather puzzled at my back, as though trying to decide whether I had done anything worth taking points for.

The grin on my face lasted the rest of the day.

I continued this measure for at least two weeks; carefully and slowly bottling and cleaning, leaving the two of us in the classroom alone. Snape had stopped glancing up at the belated thunk of my bottle, but I always gave him my best and brightest smile. I fancied that he sometimes glanced up from whatever paper he was buried in just to see my smile. 

No, I wasn't imagining that my Professor was in love with me or anything. The whole idea of love honestly never crossed my mind for at least a few months. I simply wanted to be a bright spot in his day. A constant, positive force that would perhaps at least give the surly man something to think about.

After a month, even Gryffindors can get discouraged, though. Snape was not responding to my smiles or greetings at all.  I decided to skip it for a day, just to gauge his reactions. 

I bottled my Fingernail Strengthener (don't ask, it's on the NEWT syllabus) with my usual care, and was, of course, the last one to set my bottle on the desk next to the others. This time, however, I said not a word, and headed for the door, my footsteps seeming almost conspicuously loud. My hand was on the classroom doorknob when I was stopped.

"Miss Granger?"

Did he just address me? I turned to look at my Professor, who looked shocked that he had spoken, his expression twisted as though he had just eaten something nasty.

"Yes, Professor Snape?"

He hesitated, as though he didn't want to say anything more, but I suppose he decided that not speaking would be almost as awkward as continuing.

"Well done today." He quickly looked back down into his stack of essays, but not before I caught the barest hint of flush creeping onto his pale cheeks.

"Thank you, sir." I slipped out of the room before it got any more embarrassing in the dungeons, either for Snape or me.  I didn't think too much about the blush. I guessed that he just wasn't used to making outbursts like that. I know he had certainly never complimented me before, and it's not exactly as though Fingernail Strengthener is the toughest potion out there. If I hadn't been in the midst of my crusade, I would probably have gone ballistic at that comment, wondering why he hadn't ever complimented any of my _difficult_ potions.

But I was glad that I was making an impression. Obviously one he had gotten used to. That thought heartened me, so I was ready to tackle phase two of Project Snape. 

That night after dinner, I hunted down Professor McGonagall in Gryffindor Tower. I knew that she would understand my project, and now I needed some help in deciding how to carry out phase two. She invited me into her office for some tea, and soon I was curled in a newly-transfigured armchair by the fire.  McGonagall preferred hard wooden chairs.

I told her all about what I had been doing for the past month, and what Professor Snape had said to me today (but leaving out the blush). 

"So, what do you think the next step is? Do you think I'll be able to get to know Professor Snape?" She gazed at me over her glasses for a long moment. 

"What exactly are your intentions here, Miss Granger?" Now it was my turn to blush. 

"I…oh, I never…I just wanted…. Well, Harry told us about the Pensieve and how rotten his dad was to Professor Snape, and I just thought…I wonder if I can make him smile!" I grew increasingly nervous under McGonagall's stare. I couldn't believe that she thought I was trying to _seduce Professor Snape or something!! Finally, she smiled and took a sip of her Earl Gray. _

"Hermione," she began, her voice sounding softer than I had ever heard it, "Professor Snape is a very complicated man. What you heard from Harry is a part of the picture, but not the whole of him.  For every memory he might have of being tortured by James and Sirius, there is another of him doing the same.  I'm not going to pretend that I always knew what was going on between those three, but I can assure you that Severus was not so weak as to let it be so one-sided."

I nodded, sipping my own tea. I smiled at the peppermint flavour, and at McGonagall's mothering touch of not letting me have caffeine before bed.

"Severus…has a past, Hermione, and not a nice one. He is, of course, a changed man, and very much so. He has gained many things since I taught him, confidence especially. The Dark Mark especially." She paused, scrutinizing me with those hawkish eyes, sipping from her cup again. I was very tempted to interrupt and re-explain my motives and goals, but I realized that I was being treated to a very adult conversation, and I decided not to speak.

"This is not to say, my dear, that I think you should discontinue your plan. I just want you to know what you are getting into with a man like Severus Snape. Don't expect him to be nice to you. Don't expect more compliments. If you are serious about this mission to befriend him, don't expect it to be easy."  I nodded slowly, taking a gulp of peppermint tea and ready to give up this project.

"You will, of course, have help behind the scenes. I happen to think it is a wonderful idea, and I daresay Albus will be delighted to see Severus smile again, if you can accomplish it." She reached out and patted my hand. "And the two of you are two of the most intelligent and driven students I've ever had the pleasure of teaching. Severus may not have had the aptitude for Transfiguration that you have, but you could always see the intelligence in his eyes…. I think you'll be good for each other…." McGonagall got all misty-eyed, presumably thinking back to the days when Professor Snape was a student. I was a little puzzled by her statements, but happy to know that there would be others working with me to soften Professor Snape. 

"Would you like to see a picture of him when he was your age?" McGonagall suddenly had that hawkish look around her eyes. She seemed very determined about something. She can be a frighteningly powerful woman.

"Um, OK," I agreed, ready to get back to the safety of my dorms. Before I had really answered, however, she was up, moving toward her bookcases with the same determination that I could see in her eyes.

"Here we are," she announced, sliding a dusty red-and-gold photo album off the shelves. "I saved a lot of pictures from that year, what with James winning us the House Cup. I'm sure there are a few of Severus in here." She thrust it toward me proudly, and I took it, flipping through the pages. There were lots of blank pockets, and I looked up at McGonagall to ask why.

"I gave all of the pictures of Lily and James to Hagrid for Harry's album. If you find any more, you may give them to him. Now off to bed." She took my half-full teacup and pulled out her wand to Transfigure the chair back to match her office décor.  I scurried out of the way, clutching the album. "I'll see you in class tomorrow, Miss Granger."

I headed back to my dorms, ready to pore through the thick album. Luckily, Ron and Harry were not in the Common Room, so I was able to make it up to my bed without any trouble.  Lavender and Parvati were giggling together about something, but I flopped onto my four-poster and pulled the curtains round. 

Carefully, as though it were some kind of holy relic, I opened the photo album McGonagall had given me. The first handful of pages was mostly empty from where pictures of Harry's parents had once been. Soon, though, I found pictures of other students playing Quidditch, waving at the camera, flipping through books. I kept an eye out for greasy black hair, and soon, I spotted Professor Snape. He was very skinny, very tall, and not very attractive as a sixteen-year-old.  In the picture he was shuffling his feet, glancing up at a group of Slytherins every so often. He looked so sad, like such an outsider. 

Continuing to pore over every picture, I soon found a better one. This one was a much closer angle, showing Professor Snape in near-profile, his hooked nose standing out sharply. What struck me about this one was that he was smiling. Well, maybe not _grinning_, but his mouth was definitely perking up at the corners as the magical photograph moved. His hair was swinging forward a bit, the collar of his robes also slightly ruffled by the slight wind. I couldn't tell what he was smiling at, or even if it was a friendly smile, or a mischievous one, but it softened his features, made him almost…_attractive?_  

At that thought, I decided that it was way past my bedtime, and that I was sleepy to the point of delusion. But before I turned off the lights and crawled under the covers, I slid the photograph of young Snape out of the album and under my pillow.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank goodness that the next day was a Saturday. With thoughts of Snape as a sixteen-year-old floating around in my head along with my new notion that he would be quite an attractive man if he would only _smile once in a while, I was beginning to doubt my sanity.  I knew that I certainly couldn't handle the sight of the man himself that morning. _

But, of course, due to the laws of things-happening-precisely-when-you-don't-want-them-to, he was there at breakfast, looking surly and crunching his bacon ferociously.  He was far from attractive this morning, his hair looking awfully stringy, and the permanent scowl etched across his features. This morning, though, I had seen his potential. I knew how he could look if he tried. And it wasn't really about good looks…it was about happiness. He just looked so angry at everything and everybody, especially when McGonagall took her seat next to him and started chatting with him.

McGonagall….Chatting with Snape….

I hurriedly tried to avert my eyes. It wouldn't do to have McGonagall spouting my praises into Snape's ear while I was gazing at him like a love-struck idiot. Too late. He saw me staring at him, and I could just see the wheels turning in his brain. The look on his face took on a new depth of horror as he connected my gaze, McGonagall's words, and my persistent greetings of the past month. 

I refused to look at him while I ate my oatmeal. I concentrated on my food, but decided that it tasted significantly better than it looked. Harry and Ron were both at Quidditch practice, so I scanned the Gryffindor table for somebody I recognized. 

"Neville! Over here!" I waved at my classmate almost frantically, pulling him away from a group of second-year girls who were chatting him up. He came over to where I was sitting gratefully. Though Neville had certainly earned his newfound fame and adoration at the end of last year, he was still uncomfortable around girls. Except, of course, me, but I'm not exactly what you'd call _girly_. I mean, I'm not a Quidditch jock like Ginny, but I don't walk around the dorms in dresses and heels either (unlike two of my roommates, _hint, hint). _

So, right, Neville came and plopped down next to me, a light sweat breaking out around his hairline. Actually, _plopped_ is not really the right word for Neville anymore. How about, _sank gracefully? Yes, that's right, clumsy Neville Longbottom had suddenly learned grace and efficiency of movement. Too bad he isn't in the NEWT-level potions class. I'm sure he would find his skills improved._

His social skills, however, were not changed much. He didn't understand why all those girls were crowding around him. Anyway, I calmed him down a bit, explained to him that they wouldn't bite, and sent him back down the table. My oatmeal was starting to get cold, anyway, and I had a Potions Professor to avoid. 

I probably should have been paying a _little_ bit of attention to Snape, at least to check when he was leaving the Hall. Why? Because we ended up outside at exactly the same moment, that's why. He looked at me suspiciously, and lengthened his stride. He does have awfully long legs, and pretty soon, he was out of sight down the hall. 

I decided to head to the library rather than face an afternoon of Quidditch talk from Harry, Ron, and Ginny. Not to mention watching Neville suffer with those second-years while he looked to me for help. It would be good for him to deal with those girls on his own.

I pushed open the huge wooden doors to the library, nodded to Madam Pince, and headed for my favourite spot, a little grouping of armchairs next to a small table all the way in the back. Sighing, I sank into one of the chairs and closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them, I noticed the stack of books next to the chair and became immediately interested. 

_NEWT Potions Study Guide sat atop _Wizard Poetry Through the Ages_, which was balanced on __Cooking with Magical Herbs. There were also a few novels that I didn't recognize, but I was immediately sure that either Madam Pince or some especially-helpful House Elf had set them there for my particular pleasure. I made a mental note to leave some kind of thank you note on the little table when I left. I picked up the cookbook to scan, because that was one for borrowing, not reading here. I flipped through the pictures of recipes, and even though I had just eaten breakfast, they made my mouth water a bit. _

I set that one down and picked up _Wizard Poetry Through the Ages_. It was not very thick, and I realized that though the title implied an anthology, it was actually a collection by one man, Henry Ernesto. How pretentious. I opened it anyway, willing to give it a shot. Madam Pince had obviously thought I would enjoy it. As I opened the book, the words flew around the page, and, several seconds later, arranged themselves into poems. 

_Look up, my dear,_

_For drawing near_

_Is one you seek._

_Don't be too meek._

Oh, wow. That was a terrible poem. I closed the book again and opened it to the same page, wondering if I would get something new, or if the word-scrambling was all for effect. 

_He sees you now._

_You have his book._

_Put it down,_

_He'll think you took (it)._

I laughed aloud at that one. It was so bad he couldn't even rhyme the last line properly. I was definitely going to be checking this one out, if only to show Harry and Ron what _reallllllly_ bad poetry is. But then, I looked up. And just as Mr. Ernesto had warned, there _was_ someone there. Snape.

"Miss Granger," he hissed. "Kindly tell me why you are sitting in _my chair, reading the books __I have selected for __my reading pleasure?" Whew, someone was feeling selfish._

"I usually sit here, Professor," I replied, looking him straight in the eyes. "I had no idea that these books were yours."

"Who else would check out a NEWT-level potions study guide, Miss Granger?" He really didn't look happy, but somehow the line "Don't be too meek" was floating in my head. God, I was actually taking advice from the worst poem I'd ever read??

"Well, Professor, I would, for one, or had you forgotten that I am in that class? With several other students, I might add, all of whom might be interested in studying for the exam!" I almost bit my tongue off. I just knew he was going to slap me or something. I held my breath, but when he didn't lash out, I looked at him again. He looked amused, as though he didn't quite know what to do with me. 

"All right, Miss Granger. You may borrow two of these books, since you seem so intent on keeping them for yourself." He smirked down at my hands, which had a white-knuckle grip on the awful poetry book and the cookbook. "Then, when you are finished, say, about two days, you can meet me in the dungeons to return them." 

I looked at him and blinked. "Okay…" I said slowly, "so, Monday evening? What time?"

It was his turn to look at me with a puzzled expression. "Why, seven o'clock, Miss Granger, the usual time for detentions. Of course, this is a detention, Miss Granger, not an invitation for tea. And I suggest that you refrain from using that tone with your professors, or you will be seeing a lot worse punishments than that."

With that, he plucked the Ernesto book from my hands and bent down to collect the rest of the stack, minus the study guide and cookbook, then left me sitting there in dumb silence. 


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the weekend passed without much action. I stayed as far away from the library as I could. Even though that meant being regaled with Quidditch information all day Sunday, it was certainly better than running into Snape. 

Snape. I had tried not to think much about the detention, but as Monday rolled around, it was all I could think about. Partly because, being a NEWT-level, the potions class met every day and I couldn't help but see _him_ that day. I found myself bottling and cleaning extra slowly out of habit, but I decided to get a little payback for the detention by not bestowing Professor Snape with my usual smile. I scurried out of the room even faster than Draco and Pansy (who feared their Head of House more than the other sixth years), not waiting to see whether Snape even noticed my lack of greeting.

As I was eating my last meal before the dreaded detention, I had a sudden epiphany. Instead of viewing this as the end of my little project, I could use this punishment as time to get to know Professor Snape. Oh, yeah, and to make sure he realized that I did not have an inappropriate interest in him. I formulated my plan…no matter what task he gave me to do, whether dissecting innocent bunny rabbits or carving words into my flesh a la Umbridge, I was going to talk to him. I, Hermione Granger, was going to have a _conversation_ with Professor Severus Snape.

I whipped a sheet of parchment and a quill from my bag, performed a neat charm to slice the parchment in two, and began writing:

__

Book of bad poems

Potions – techniques, methods, et cetera

Rare magical herbs for use in potions

Literature, both Muggle and Magical

History of Slytherin House

Eyeing my list of conversation topics with a smile, I folded the parchment and slid it into a pocket. Now I had all the ammunition I needed for the detention. I made sure to brush my (now even) teeth, straighten my robes, et cetera, before I headed for the Potions classroom.

Snape was waiting for me, but did not speak to me when I entered. I stood there for a moment, expecting him to immediately tell me what I was to do as punishment. 

"Sit down and stop acting like you've never been here before. I am well aware that you do, in fact, have a class in this classroom every day, Miss Granger." 

I blushed. He was referring to the comment I had made that had got me this detention in the first place. I slid into my usual seat in the front row of tables and continued to wait. Snape, after that first comment, remained silent and bent over a stack of essays.

I waited very patiently for about two minutes (hey, everyone has their limits), but I had to speak up.

"Professor Snape, sir, was there something you were wanting me to _do_ today?"

"Miss Granger, I was under the impression that you _were_ doing something. Namely, serving detention."

"But, sir, weren't there any frog's eyes for me to bottle or potions to help you brew?" Snape gave a harsh laugh at that.

"Miss Granger, do I need to repeat that this is a detention? A punishment? Surely you don't think I would let you enjoy it by having you brew potions."

"So…there aren't any chores to be done? I could…clean cauldrons!"

"Your punishment is to sit there. Quietly. And do nothing until I say you can leave!" He made several slashing marks through parts of the topmost essay on the stack. I sensed that I should probably do what he wanted. I crossed my ankles, set my hands flat on the table and sat very still. I closed my eyes, but then I started to doze off, so I opened them and fixed them straight ahead.

Soon I started to fidget. My ankles uncrossed themselves, my left leg started its nervous habit of jiggling up and down, my fingers began to drum on the table. I saw Professor Snape sigh and lay down his quill, and he raised his eyes up to meet mine.

"You just can't do nothing, can you?" he asked, not unkindly. I shook my head no, hoping that he would give me _some_ chore or _something_ to do!

"Well…" he pondered for a moment. I perked up, ready and willing to do whatever nasty, unappealing job he could throw at me. 

"TRY HARDER!" 

Hmm…hadn't been expecting that. I gave it my best effort short of Petrificus Totalus, but I just couldn't keep still. I had visions of all the homework I could be doing if I were only back up in the dorms. Finally, I reached into my pocket and quietly withdrew my list of conversation topics. I smoothed out the parchment and shot a stealthy look at Snape. He seemed engrossed in an essay, so I managed to get the list onto my lap without him seeing.

"Professor Snape?" I asked tentatively.

"What is it, Miss Granger?" I cleared my throat, ready for a thrilling, exciting, intellectual discussion.

"I was wondering if you could tell me exactly what that book of poems was in the library the other day?"

"I certainly could, Miss Granger…" I waited, full of anticipation. My idea was working! 

"…If you were not in the middle of SERVING DETENTION!!" Oh. Well. Never mind that idea, then. 

I put my head down on the table, finally cowed. I glanced down at my wristwatch, which had been a birthday gift from my mother. I had only been in detention for fifteen minutes. Who knew how long Snape would keep me in there?

I managed to keep my eyes open and on Professor Snape. Every so often he would raise his eyes just slightly to make sure I was awake. Finally, finally, after 45 minutes of torture and silence, he set aside his essays.

"Miss Granger, your detention is finished."

"Thank you, Professor Snape."

"Miss Granger, it has recently come to my attention that you are interested in doing some type of extracurricular project in Potions." Oh, so _that's_ what McGonagall had said to him! I felt extreme relief wash over my body, but came to my senses enough to nod and squeak out a "yes, sir."

"I do have a list of potions that I was unable to include on the NEWT syllabus this year. If you would like to work on them, I believe we could come to some sort of arrangement."

"Yes, sir! That would be wonderful!" Even though I hadn't discussed this with McGonagall, I wasn't upset with her for getting me into extra work. In fact, I was thrilled. Now I would be totally prepared for whatever the NEWT examiners could throw my way, and I would have time to work on Project Snape!

"Speak with me after class tomorrow. Now off to Gryffindor Tower before I give you another detention for being out after curfew." He turned his attention back toward his essays and I almost skipped out of the classroom. When I got to the door, though, I stopped and turned around.

"Have a good night, Professor Snape," I said, and flashed him a joyful grin. I turned to go, thinking that I had got the upper hand after all, but Snape surprised me.

"You too, Miss Granger."


	4. Chapter 4

I was giddy most of the day Tuesday. I felt that my detention had gone superbly well, after the first fifteen minutes. So I hadn't achieved my goal of having a real, intelligent, non-teacher/student conversation with Snape, but I had made several breakthroughs. First of all, the extra potions work. This new development would probably mean several nights in the Potions classroom per week, providing me the perfect opportunity to get to know the man behind the scowl. 

Secondly, Snape had acknowledged my "good night." I felt that that was my greatest achievement, and, at the risk of sounding like a schoolgirl with a crush, I decided to find Professor McGonagall that night and tell her all about it. First, however, I had Potions, and then my little chat with Snape.

Everyone was used to my slow cleaning process, so I found myself alone in the classroom with Snape again. I set my perfect bottle of Migraine Reliever next to the others on Professor Snape's desk, and waited as he cleared away his materials from our class and prepared for his next.

"Professor Snape, did you want to talk to me?"

"Just a moment, if you please." He arranged some notes on his desk, then reached for my bottle of potion. He produced a spoon, and helped himself to some of my Migraine Reliever. 

"Is there something wrong with my potion, sir?"

"Miss Granger, has it ever occurred to you that I might just need a dose?"

"Oh, sorry, sir," I said, but inside I was beaming. He trusted my potion enough to take it for his own headache!

"All right then, Miss Granger, about the extra work you are so anxious to get started with. Here is a list of potions that you will be working on." He handed me a scroll of parchment and waited while I looked it over. I nodded, recognizing some of the names, and looking forward to trying out the new ones. "You will research the ingredients yourself. If there are any rarer items that you cannot obtain, you may ask me. Ask, Miss Granger, not help yourself." He paused and watched my face as the realization sunk in.

"So, you knew it was me?" My mind flickered back to the ingredients I had stolen from Snape back in second year to brew the Polyjuice Potion.

"Thanks to your confession just now." He smirked at me and continued. "You will turn in your potion for the week each Friday. Friday I will give you a relevant written assignment for each. Understood?" I was confused. 

"Where will I brew them, sir?"

"I don't care, as long as it is not during class time."

"I thought…I thought I would have some kind of laboratory set up or something." I was disappointed. I thought that Snape would be supervising, or helping, or whatever. Now I was finding out that I had to do it all on my own, without even a chance to work on my other project, my project to get to know Snape.

"Miss Granger. I offered you a chance to get extra NEWT practice. I offered you ingredients from my private stores. I will not offer you an invitation to invade my private space!" He spoke with fury bubbling just beneath the surface. I sensed that he was holding back his anger for my sake. I suppose he had a right to be a little angry with me, especially considering how I had just confessed that I had stolen from him. 

"Yes, sir," I squeaked, rolling up the parchment and scurrying out of the classroom. As was becoming a difficult habit to break, I stopped at the door and turned to Professor Snape. He looked really tired, and I thought about his spying activities for the Order. "I hope your headache feels better, sir." I looked at him, still sunk back into his desk chair, looking less intimidating and much weaker than usual, and that same spark of compassion that I had felt after Harry had told us about the whole underwear scene flared in my chest.

"I'm sure your potion will kick in shortly. Have a good afternoon, Miss Granger." He looked at up at me, and I grinned at him. He didn't smile back, of course, but his eyes softened a little. That settled it. If I had had any doubts about my project before, now my dedication was cemented. I was going to make Snape smile, no matter what. If I had to dress up in a jester's outfit and tell jokes in front of the whole class, then I would.

I slipped out of the room just in time to bypass a loud group of second-years coming down the hall. I had Care of Magical Creatures next, and I hurried outside. Hagrid gave me a sideways look for being late, but I just grinned. Harry and Ron must have thought I was batty. I hardly paid attention during the lesson, which was my last of the day, and hurried back to the castle to talk to McGonagall.

"Hermione, _wait!_" Ron and Harry called in unison. I stopped and turned to them. 

"Where are you going in such a hurry, Mione?"

"We haven't talked to you in _ages_. What's up with you?"

"Sorry…I guess it's just all the NEWT-levels I'm taking. It's got me pretty distracted. I'm supposed to meet Professor McGonagall to go over some Transfiguration tips."

"Well, don't let us keep you, since the NEWTs aren't until _next year!!!_" called Ron as I hurried off again.

"Yeah, we're just your _friends_, no big deal!" yelled Harry. I did feel bad for having neglected them, but just now I was having an idea. A great idea. And I needed to talk to Professor McGonagall.


	5. Chapter 5

I couldn't find Professor McGonagall until just before dinner, but she invited me to her office and Transfigured me the same cushy armchair as before. I told her what had happened with her idea for the extra credit project, and about how Snape had started responding to me. I blabbered on until finally, I stopped to take a sip of tea.

"Well," said Professor McGonagall, obviously overwhelmed by all the information I had just dumped on her. "I can honestly say that I expected him to be responding already. Poor man, I imagine that he is starved for friendly attention. I could ask Albus to make sure you had some workspace in the dungeons, if you like."

"No, Professor, I think that this will work out fine. Professor Snape seemed…displeased with the idea of sharing his space." She nodded and I continued. "I do have an idea though. If you could just help me with one thing.…" 

"Go on, my dear," she adjusted her glasses and peered intently at me.

"Could you tell me…When is Professor Snape's birthday?" I bit my lip nervously, wondering if my plan was a good one and hoping for Professor McGonagall's approval. To my immense delight, her face broke into a grin.

"October 30th. You can see why he hates Halloween so much."

"I never knew he hated Halloween."

"Oh, goodness. Let me just say this…do not decorate any cake or card or gift you might be thinking of giving him with orange or black. Or jack-o-lanterns, black cats, you get the picture."

"And he'll be turning 38?" Not exactly crucial to my plan, but information I was curious about just the same.

"Yes, that's right. This will probably be a difficult one for him, too. Don't get discouraged if he doesn't respond well. I daresay no one outside of a few members of the Hogwarts staff has acknowledged his birthday in many years." She got a wistful look as she reminisced, but quickly snapped out of her nostalgic mood. "Come along, Miss Granger, you need to be eating dinner." 

"Yes, Professor McGonagall." 

I thanked her and trudged to the Great Hall, my head and heart heavy from thinking about Professor Snape. My mood only worsened when I got to the Gryffindor table, because Harry and Ron were still upset with me for neglecting them, and moved places so that I couldn't sit near them. Instead, I took a seat next to Neville. 

"Hey, Neville. How's Herbology?"

"Great. Professor Sprout is already working on finding an apprenticeship for me after Hogwarts."

"That's wonderful, Neville. How about your girl troubles? Got that sorted out?" I grinned at him.

"Actually, Hermione, I wanted to ask you something about that, if you don't mind."

"Sure thing." I loaded my plate up with mashed potatoes and veggies and settled into my comfortable role of problem-fixer. Snape might be a challenge, but Neville's girl troubles were something I could handle.

"Well, I don't know which one to ask out." Oh, goodness. This was going to be a simple problem to fix.

"Which one do you like best?" Honestly, he could be daft sometimes!

"I dunno…I'm sorry, Hermione, but I don't want to hurt their feelings!"

"OK, well, which one do you care the most about?"

"I care about all of them!" 

"Honestly, Neville!!" I was getting exasperated. "Let's try this. Is there one of the girls in particular who you really like to make happy? Whose sadness makes you get sad? Whose smile is the goal of your day?"

"Well, now that you put it that way. I guess…Lisa makes me feel that way. I always love it when she smiles, and…." 

But by then the realization had sunk in. I didn't want to hear about Lisa, wonderful as her smile may be. I had just described how I was feeling about Snape. My head was swirling. What did this mean? I pretended to listen to Neville for a while, then encouraged him to go talk to her. He did just that, a goofy smile plastered on his face as he realized his feelings for her.

I couldn't eat. As I left the table, Harry and Ron shooting glares my way, I shot a glance up towards the High Table. Snape was there, picking at his food and not talking, and I felt that tightening in my stomach. I wanted to go up there and talk to him, and hug him, and…. 

__

Whoa, wait a second, Granger. Since when did hugging become part of this? I definitely needed to go think this through. I considered going to the library, but the thought of meeting Professor Snape there was too much. I plopped on my unmade bed (the house elves wouldn't touch anything of mine) and lay there in silence. 

I thought about Professor Snape. I thought about how horrible he had been to me in the past. I thought about his class, and how frustrated he must be having to see his subject botched every day. I thought about the Dark Mark on his arm, which I had seen back in my third year. I thought about what Harry had told us he had seen in the Pensieve. I thought about why on earth no one cared about his birthday. And then I cried. I cried for Professor Snape, because his was the saddest story I had ever heard. I reached for my pillow, for comfort, and my hand found something tucked underneath.

The picture! The picture of Snape, surreptitiously taken in his sixth or seventh year. Snape, almost smiling. And that was enough to make me smile. 


	6. Chapter 6

My confusion about my feelings didn't disappear quite as quickly as my tears had, unfortunately. I researched my first potion, Dreaming Draught, during mealtimes, just to make sure that Snape wouldn't be in the library. It was easy to find the ingredients list for it, as well as other information, and I was ready to brew on Wednesday. 

I still had to see Snape during classes, but I stayed quiet except for my hurried "have a good day", minus the smile, that I now said without looking at my potions Professor. Wednesday, though, I realized that I needed an ingredient. I hadn't looked closely at the list before, just checked out the book once I had found it. But the Dreaming Draught, which caused the consumer to dream quite vividly all night, was related to other sleeping potions. And this meant that I needed asphodel. This was not a terribly rare ingredient, but one that was certainly out of my price range at the time, not to mention the fact that there was no way I'd be able to get it by Friday. There was no choice. After a lonely dinner (Harry and Ron were _still_ not speaking to me, and Neville was now sitting with Lisa at every meal), I set out for the dungeons.

I knocked at the classroom door, but there was no reply. Though I had never been in Snape's office, I had been in his storeroom, and so I had an idea of where the office was. I continued down the corridor to the next door on the right, and knocked. The door swung open magically.

"Yes?" said Professor Snape, who was bent over a book, reading. The office was actually quite pleasant, especially in contrast with the cold classroom. I could see the door that led to the storeroom, but what was really fascinating were the bookshelves. I itched to explore them.

"Professor Snape, sir, you said to come see you if I needed any ingredients?" He finally looked up at me.

"Ah, good evening, Miss Granger. What can I help you with?" He seemed almost pleasant. I guessed that reading was one of his few pleasures, as it was for me. 

"I needed a pinch of asphodel for the Dreaming Draught I'm working on, and you said to come see you…." I trailed off as he held up a hand.

"Miss Granger, asphodel is not a rare ingredient. It is easily obtained at the apothecary in Hogsmeade."

"Yes, sir, but…I don't have a way to get there nor money for it. It is rather pricey." He growled a little in annoyance, but somehow I felt that he was just teasing me. He got up and beckoned me to follow him to the storeroom.

"I imagine that you are familiar with this room?"

"Well, sir, if you call breaking in four years ago for about two minutes familiarity…." I was getting a little sick of his jabs about the Polyjuice episode. He _could_ say something about a second-year brewing such a difficult potion.

"You only broke in once?" He looked surprised. 

"Yes, sir, in second year."

"And you were able to find your ingredients in only two minutes?"

"Yes, sir. I took three grams of powdered bicorn horn and two of boomslang skin, if you want to know the details!" He looked at me sharply, but didn't say anything. We stood there in silence glaring at each other for a few moments.

"Miss Granger, I have one more question. Did you successfully brew the Polyjuice Potion?"

"Yes, sir." 

"I must say that I am impressed. Not only did you get past my wards, but you deciphered my organization system and brewed the Polyjuice. All in your second year. Excellent work, Miss Granger." Well, that was a shock. He must have known how I wold react, so he took the opportunity to reach for the little container of asphodel, measuring out a pinch into a small vial which he handed to me. 

While we had been bantering, all my nervousness at coming here had disappeared, but now that it was quiet in the room, my mind had a chance to wander. I took the vial, accidentally brushing Professor Snape's fingers with my own, something that normally would have been nothing, but today brought the blood to my cheeks. I caught a bit of Professor Snape's scent as I walked past his desk, something that normally I wouldn't have noticed, but today made my heart pound. I needed a room at St. Mungo's, right away. 

I thanked Professor Snape and said good night, carrying my asphodel up to Gryffindor tower. The brewing was successful, and let's just say that my dreams that night made me glad of the notebook I kept next to my bed.

Friday came, and as I slipped my bottle of Dreaming Draught into my bag along with Snape's vial, I realized that my heartbeat was incredibly fast. 

You're just going to class, Hermione, you do it every day. I decided I was just nervous about my first extra assignment. I wiped my sweaty palms on my robes and headed down to the dungeon classroom. I put my Draught on his desk first thing, and sank into my seat. So it was turned in. It worked. Why was I still nervous? 

I worked steadily, refusing to look up at Professor Snape. Finally, finally, the class was over and I reported to his desk for my written assignment.

"Slight change of plans, Miss Granger," Snape said as soon as he had finished clearing up the notes and lecture materials from my class. 

"Is something wrong with my potion, sir?" 

"No, of course not, Miss Granger, and that is the problem." I was very confused now. "Miss Granger, think. If you could brew Polyjuice four years ago, then I am wasting your time with the assignments I gave you."

"But, sir, I would really like the chance to make sure I'm prepared for my NEWTs…." No he wasn't. He was not about to cut off all my contact with him _now_. Not when I….

"You are more than prepared. You could take them right this minute with your eyes closed."

"But, sir…."

"But nothing, Miss Granger. If you want to brew those potions which are so beneath your talents, so be it. The only difference will be that you will not be handing them in to me any longer." I was really on the verge of tears at this point. I only had one more shot, and it was a long one, but I took it.

"Professor Snape, is there nothing you could give me to work on? Some kind of research and development thing? Please, sir?" He paused for a moment, trying to keep his anger at me under control. 

"Miss Granger, you try my patience. But since you seem so eager for me to assign _something _to you, here is an idea: GET OUT!" With that he stormed back into the potions storeroom. I did not leave, however. I stayed rooted to the spot until I heard glass breaking from the storeroom. Without thinking, I was there, pulling open the door. 

Snape was standing in the center of the room looking absolutely murderous. He whirled to face me when he heard the door creak open, his wand pointed at my heart. All of a sudden, his face changed. He realized what he had been about to do and he froze, lowering his wand and looking at me with some sort of vague horror on his face. 

I, on the other hand, had been paying more attention to the spilled ingredients on the ground, some of which were coming perilously close to mixing. I pulled out my wand and Snape flinched, but I quickly cast some charms to freeze the ingredients, repair their bottles, and return them to their rightful places.

Then came the awkwardness. Snape was torn between being angry with me and thankful for my quick thinking. He was also dealing with guilt for almost cursing me. I, on the other hand, was shocked at myself (and Snape, for that matter) and also rather embarrassed. We both just stood there for an excruciating moment.

"Miss Granger, I need to see you in my office as soon as possible. There are several issues we need to discuss."

"Yes, sir. After dinner?" He nodded and returned to his classroom. I hustled out of the room and down to Hagrid's cabin, where I spent yet another lesson lost in my own thoughts.


	7. Chapter 7

__

A/N: I don't usually do these (author's notes), but I feel like you gals (and guys?) deserve one. I am absolutely embarrassed at the amount of time it took me to get this chapter out. I beg your forgiveness, and plead the "RL" defense, which in my case includes such problems as getting robbed thrice in a row, moving, having computer troubles, etc. I would also like to give a HUGE thanks to everyone who takes the time to give me feedback on this story. I thrive on your comments and would appreciate more concrit. All I as is that you leave me a way to contact you to either explain myself or ask for more detail! Finally, a special thanks to my brother, from whom I borrowed the bad poet, Henry Ernesto. Check out his website, http:// www.turkeyworld.org_, to read more bad poetry (funnier than mine, to boot!) All that said, I hope you enjoy this, and feel free to review here, at WIKTT, or email me at zz_25 @yahoo.com. Thanks!_

I made an appearance at dinner, even though I was sure I would be unable to eat a single bite. I choked down some potato soup and half a roll, keeping my eyes carefully away from the Head Table. I even tried to make small talk with Ron and Harry, but they were still ignoring me. After showing my face for an acceptable amount of time, I left for the Common Room just as plates of tarts and huge bowls of ice cream began to appear at the tables. 

I didn't really know what this meeting with Snape was all about, but I wanted to look good anyway. I washed up, brushed and flossed, and put on fresh robes. I briefly considered doing something with my hair, but decided that that would certainly be a little much. When I heard the voices and footsteps of my classmates from the Common Room, signaling the end of dinner, I left. Harry and Ron mumbled something about "overwork" and "not until next year," but I ignored them and made my way down through the castle.

I went straight to the office door this time, knocked, and was admitted. Snape was hovered over the same book, but shut it and slid it onto his lap before I could get a good glimpse of what it was. 

"Miss Granger," he said in clipped tones. Apparently he was still upset with me.

"Professor Snape," I countered. He sighed.

"Please have a seat." I looked around for a chair and found none other than Snape's own. Before I could let out some quip about sitting in his lap, he had conjured one, in dark green upholstery with delicately carved snakes for arms. I wrinkled my nose at the overwhelming Slytherin-ness of it, but sat down. Snape leaned back, propping his elbows on the desk and pressing his fingertips together. He was silent for a long moment, and I took the time to examine the office. It was plain, but not creepy. There weren't any bottles of pickled organs or anything like that. A number of certificates or diplomas hung on one wall in simple wooden frames. The other walls were bare stone, fitting for a dungeon, but not covered in spots of moss or slime. It was surprisingly comfortable. 

"Miss Granger, I have spoken with Headmaster Dumbledore this afternoon, and after much debate, we have reached a decision." I held my breath, waiting for the good news. If Dumbledore was involved, surely I would be allowed to continue my extra potions work! "We have agreed that the extra-curricular assignments I had prepared for you are considerably beneath your talents." I closed my eyes in defeat. So much for that. "However, we have disagreed on the matter of your punishment for your...outbursts earlier today. I suggested that you receive a week of detentions with Filch, especially considering your prior punishment for the same offense."

"What?" I protested.

"Let me finish," Snape hissed, showing more control than I would have normally given him credit for. "The Headmaster, on the other hand, believes that your rudeness to a teacher and insubordination should be ignored in this case, and we should instead applaud your "thirst for knowledge." Funny how a trait I usually prided myself on could be turned into an insult on Snape's tongue. My cheeks burned with an odd mixture of outrage and humiliation.

"I expect the Headmaster will be requesting a meeting with you in the next day or so. What I have called you here for this evening, Miss Granger, is to formally terminate our agreement regarding the potions work. That is all. You may return to Gryffindor." 

That was it? As I exited the office and headed back to my dorm, I chided myself. What did I expect? For him to declare his undying devotion to me just because I prevented a mishap in the storeroom? He was the one who went nutters in the first place, breaking ingredients and nearly cursing me! He was as mercurial as either of my roommates, going from complimentary to breaking-glass angry in a matter of seconds. I reached my dorm more confused about Snape than ever, but I had a sure solution to that.

Pulling out my schoolbag, I took stock of my homework. Since sitting OWLs the year before, I had been determined to be extremely well-prepared for my NEWTs in seventh year. Beginning in the summer, I did as much schoolwork as I could ahead of time. That way, I wouldn't have to worry during the year and could work on tough spots as needed. I had completed all my work through March in most of my classes. Drat. I had let myself get behind during the whole potions interlude. I spread my work around me and began catching up to April.

***

The expected summons from the Headmaster came the next day, just as I entered Potions. Professor Snape was furious, but had no choice but to let me go. I had reached the gargoyle when I realized that no one had given me a password to the office. I tried "Sherbet Lemon" and "Cockroach Clusters" and a few Muggle sweets before turning around to go back to the dungeons. To my surprise, Dumbledore himself was standing there, a faint smile on his face. 

"Excellent guesses, my dear. I believe that I have used each of those passwords at one time or another. But, I think that today is far too lovely a day to spend it in my dusty old office. Would you care to join me for a walk on the grounds?"

"Certainly, sir," I replied as Dumbledore took my arm in his. The Headmaster was neither tall nor fat, but I felt dwarfed by his presence as we walked onto the grounds. We strolled in silence for a ways, and though the day was lovely, I began to feel uncomfortable about missing a class just to take a walk. As though reading my mind, the Headmaster stopped. 

"It is lovely here, is it not, Miss Granger?" He sounded wistful as he stared off toward the hills. I surveyed the spot he had chosen. We had a clear view of the lake, no doubt already icy cold at this time of year and the Whomping Willow, which was innocently still, but had an especially sinister look due to its lack of leaves. Mountains rose up in the distance, snow already capping off most of them. 

"Yes, sir, it is beautiful." 

"Tell me, Miss Granger. How is your homework coming along?"

"I'm doing well in all my classes, Headmaster." 

"Hermione, how many months ahead are you?" Well, that was a shock. I didn't know Dumbledore knew about that!

"Um…last night I caught up to April in all my classes, sir." He nodded and scanned the grounds again, tugging a little on his silvery beard. The October sky was remarkably clear, free of both clouds and broomsticks, but that was to be expected at this hour, when everyone was supposed to be in class. 

"Miss Granger, Professor Snape has no doubt explained to you that we both agree that the extra potions work he assigned was considerably beneath your talents." I nodded. "I have recently come to believe that perhaps our entire curriculum here at Hogwarts is beneath your current talents. No sixth-year should be able to work six months ahead of the syllabus." Dumbledore offered his arm and we continued our walk in silence. I could almost _feel_ the Headmaster thinking, he radiated such powerful concentration. We soon paused again, closer to the Forbidden Forest this time. I could see birds and other creatures flitting about through the bare branches of the enormous trees. 

"My dear," Dumbledore began, turning to face me for the first time. I could see the real concern on his face, and perhaps a look of defeat in his bright blue eyes. "I do not have an answer to this problem, and before you say a word, yes, it is a problem. I do have a suggestion, and I would love for you to hear me out before declining." 

"Of course, sir." I decided not to add that I didn't see any problem with doing my homework a few months early.

"Hermione, how would you feel about sitting your NEWTs this year? I know you want to be prepared, but I believe that you will be fully ready by the time they roll around later this year." 

"You mean, leave Hogwarts a year early? Leave Harry and Ron? Leave all my teachers and friends?"

"Of course, you wouldn't be leaving them, just finishing a year earlier. You could apprentice with one of the professors here, travel, or even go to a Muggle university. You have such a bright future, such potential, and I sincerely do not want to see you waste a year when you could already be moving on."

"I'll…I'll think about it, sir. I need to get to my next class. Thank you." 

"Please do consider it, Miss Granger. And feel free to come discuss any of your concerns with me. The password is "Skittles." A most delightful Muggle candy I had the pleasure of sampling last summer."

"Yes, sir," was all I could manage before hurrying away to Hagrid's cabin for Care of Magical Creatures. At the rate I was going, I would never be ready for my NEWT in that class, as I spent one more in a long series of classes full of introspective musings. 

*** 

I tried really hard to push the thought of leaving Hogwarts out of my mind. I hadn't closed myself totally to the idea, but neither was it something I wanted to rush into. I decided to talk to all my teachers and my parents before deciding. At the moment, I had a birthday gift to attend to. 

Trying to come up with a suitable gift for Professor Snape was no easy task. To make it worse, he had no friends I could ask for suggestions. I was left with only my limited knowledge of the man and nearly two weeks before his 38th birthday. I ran the gamut of possibilities…a new book of some type, potions ingredients, perhaps…but everything seemed either impersonal or impractical. The thought of choosing a suitable book for someone like Snape gave me a new appreciation for what my parents had to go through every birthday and Christmas with me.

I sat in my rooms with parchment and quill, brainstorming and scratching out ideas. Not that I had many of those. Finally, I lay back in bed, defeated. I lay my quill and parchment atop a stack of books on the nightstand. I did a double take at the top book of the pile. It was the _Cooking with Magical Herbs_ book that Snape had let me borrow from the library. Maybe I could find a recipe for a cake with some type of happiness-inducing herbs?

I flipped through recipes for soups that had warming properties, a section on herbs to aid digestion, and aphrodisiac desserts. I did pause on a cake baked through with most of the ingredients for a standard lust potion, my mind filled with new interpretations on the idea of birthday gifts, but moved on as the colour rose to my cheeks. Finally, I found a promising recipe. It was labeled as a "_Really_ Happy Birthday Cake" and contained many of the ingredients found in Pepper-Up Potion and the like. I was going to get Snape to smile for sure with this one. Now the only problem was the actual baking of the cake. The herbal ingredients were all standard stores, but I needed access to flour and sugar and an oven. Perhaps I could enlist Dobby to give me a hand in the kitchens, but I was still on bad terms with most of the house-elves. 

But now I that I had the recipe, I could move on to other matters. I hadn't forgotten about the other books in the pile, especially the terrible but prophetic poetry book. I was itching to explore the enchantments and charms on the book itself, as well as testing its accuracy at foretelling. I used a Duplicating Charm to make a copy of the cake recipe, and grabbed up the NEWT Potions Study Guide. Wanting to avoid my potions professor if possible, I decided to check by the library first, in hope that he had already returned _Wizarding Poetry Through the Ages_. 

After a fruitless search through the shelves, I asked Madam Pince if the book was available. She confirmed my fears…Professor Snape still had it. I thanked Madam Pince as she checked my books in, and left chewing my lip. I was dying to head to Snape's office now and ask for the book, but I decided to wait until after class the next day. 

I approached Professor Snape's desk tentatively. I still was unsure as to why he had reacted so violently last time we had spoken after class, and I certainly was not looking forward to a repeat performance. 

"Miss Granger, if you are going to try to convince me to allow you to continue the potions work, you are wasting your time." 

"No, sir, I just wondered whether you were finished with those books from the library a few weeks ago?"

"Yes, Miss Granger, I have already returned them to the library."

"Well, Madam Pince and I couldn't find _Wizarding Poetry Through the Ages_ and I really wanted to have a look at that one, so I thought I'd ask." Snape gave me an odd look that I couldn't decipher, but then his face became a mask of calm. 

"I have not finished with that particular book. I will let you know when and if I am. Good day, Miss Granger." 

As I left the classroom empty-handed, I decided that I had to have a peek at the book. If just the mention of it could cause Snape to have to use Occlumency (and from Harry's descriptions, I was sure that's what had caused his face to become so calm so quickly), then there was more to it then I had first realized. Yes, it was definitely time for a covert operation to get that book. 


End file.
